


Neibolt Street Stories

by AncientEldritch



Series: Alternate Universes [1]
Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Childbirth, Depression, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Learning Disabilities, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 06:10:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21489649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AncientEldritch/pseuds/AncientEldritch
Summary: A collection of short stories centering around a human Pennywise(IT 1990), Junior(IT 2017), Robert Gray and Novel Pennywise living together in the House at Neibolt Street with their pet dog Pom-Pom, the Pomeranian. A not so normal family goes on with their daily lives in Derry~Each story is closed in itself and dont have to be read in order.Character Death implied(OC). It's heavily headcanon based so bear with it. TW: Negative Thoughts
Series: Alternate Universes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548937
Kudos: 3





	Neibolt Street Stories

**Author's Note:**

> A little character Overview:
> 
> Pennywise Sr.(Papa)Age 45, is the head of the household, keeping the family sustained with his work at the circus which he is ringmaster of. He took over the business from his father, aka Novel Penny, here just called Gramps(Age 86). Papa still suffers from the loss of his wife who died shortly after Junior's birth. He is a chain smoker and drinks heavily at times, he also shows signs of depression now and then but tries to hide it from everyone. Papa loves dad jokes and is not above in telling everyone about it. He is also a great cook and often uses his talent for his family, making them great dishes to eat. Is also very protective over Junior.
> 
> Pennywise Jr.(Junior) is Papa's only child and mentally disabled due to lack of oxygen at birth, he is nineteen but has the mental age of six. He has a bubbly personality and is easily riled up if he feels misunderstood or left out of something. Junior sleeps with a lot of stuffed animals and carries around a big clown doll every where he goes. He suffers from strabismus which is often the cause of hurtful ridicule from his peers. He loves to balance on a big red ball and is quite good at it. Junior visits the circus occasionally to watch Papa and Robert perform and cheers them on. Junior is an ace with animals.
> 
> Robert "Bob" Gray is the nephew of Grampa and Son of Maturin(who has deceased prior to this story), he is seventeen but a true prodigy and has skipped two classes in highschool, allowing him to visit college earlier as usual. Robert struggles to keep up with his side job at the Circus and studies so he tries extra hard to support both his family and his blossoming academical career. He is best friends with Junior and both have a close relationship with each other. He calls Papa Uncle even though technically they are cousins. But due to the age difference, Robert decided the term Uncle would fit better and no one really was against it either.
> 
> Grampa Penny is the former owner of Derry Circus but nowadays he had retired a couple years prior to this story. He lives at his son's house in Neibolt Street, rent free of course because in his life he had worked enough already to do much else in his point of view...Gramps is the typical elder, easily irritated, has problems with his eyesight and joint problems. Still thinking that he wears the pants in the household, Grampa pesters and nags Papa whenever he can, be it how he is leading the circus or anything else. He was also the one who decided to take Robert in after his father Maturin died of a stroke. Deep in his heart he is an okay guy but likes to not show it. The old Pennywise is very sensitive about age and hates being accused of being an old bag of bones. He can't stand Junior and is embarrassed by his antics. Robert is his favorite.

**Neibolt Street Stories**

A collection of short stories written by

AncientEldritch

Chapter One

**"Memories"**

We are now in a lightly dimmed bedroom. The old tapestry started to peel off already, making the whole room unsettling to look at.  
On the bed of said room sat a man with a picture in hands. His red, poofy hair that started to light up on top, signs of prematurely aging.  
He let out a sigh, eyes narrowed on the person of said picture. The name of this man was Pennywise Sr, or Papa for short, this is how his family called him at last. Ringmaster of the local Circus of Derry, solemn head of the household and occasionally drinker. Papa began to rub his temples slowly, trying to battle the upcoming headaches. It was a battle he only could loose however as in the end they always won, making him miserable.  
His greyish eyes graced every feature of the woman on the picture, a finger tracing her facial structure slowly.  
It was hard to simply look at her without starting to cry, at least for him. For nineteen years he had suffered and mourned the death of his wife, Jolene was her name and she was one of a kind.  
Papa met her at age twenty-five and fell in love right away. Her auburn coppery hair that was shining like the sun in daylight, it made Papa's heart beat  
faster in no time. Her stubby little nose and high forehead, her freckles, everything about this woman was just perfect...She was thicc at the right parts, something Papa really liked. He was a man who loved big boned woman after all, they gave him something to grab on. But the times of enjoying fleshly desires was long over, at least for him. The solemn thought of sleeping with another  
woman as Jolene gave Papa's heart a deep cut. How unfair it would be towards her...they were in love after all...and wasn't it that this would stay for all eternity? Sure till dead do us apart it's called, but to Papa it was more than a whimsically given promise. It was so much more...

Not once it came to his mind that this set of thoughts would deeply upset Jolene if she was still alive. Jolene was always a caring, selfless person who put everyone ahead of herself, even in sickness she was the first person coming to aid...Jolene wanted her loved ones to be happy, to be cared for. Papa had been her first and only love which made it all the more special to her. Now everything that was left of her however was this picture which stared blank eyed back at a mourning widow. Biting his bottom lip while furrowing his brows, the middle aged man stood up, putting the frame on his nightstand carefully, giving it a last kiss before turning around, leaving the room silently.

"Memories...that is all that left of her..."he muttered, eyes fixated on the hard wooded floor of his house. From the door on the left Junior came out, his only child and spitting image of Jolene. Papa looked up shortly, blinking a couple times as he saw that Junior held his beloved clown doll clutched to his skinny chest, the biggest smile plastered on the boy's face. Drool was running down his chin, dropping down onto the floor, leaving wet marks on it. He seemed giddy about something but Papa wasn't sure about what. Literally everything could be the source of the boy's joy.  
They stared at each other for a couple more minutes before the younger man let out a small giggle, the bells he was wearing on his wrists jingled in a happy tune.

"Papa look, i made something for you!" he stated clumsily, rummaging in one of his pockets until he had what he had searched for. It was a crunched up piece of paper that looked like something was on it. "Take a lookie, i drew it all by myself!" Junior added, flashing his buck teeth proudly. Papa rubbed the back of his head, forcing a smile on his face.

"Well just look at that...thank you, son!" Papa retorted, slowly opening the paper curiously. It was a crudely drawn picture of three persons, one was Papa himself, the other one, albeit hard to recognize was unmistakable Jolene. She held Junior's and Papa's hand, smiling. The man's throat tightened and a seething sound escaped his lips. "I drew us, Mama too!" Junior explained, waiting for his father's praise like usual.  
"She watches us from the weeds, right? Whack Whack weeds, hahaha" clapping his hands childishly, Junior didn't realized the impact it had on his father nor could he grasp the grave insensitivity of his statement.

"That's nice, Junior, really well done..."he muttered, trying hard to keep his composure. "Yes, she is watching us from the weeds...they keep her company now..."Papa added, lips thin as paper. Junior let out another laugh before skipping off into his room again, singing about something he had listened to in the radio today. Walking further down the hall, he went down the stairs and straight into the kitchen towards his liquor storage. Opening the cabinet that was above the stove, Papa pulled out a bottle of whiskey, looking at it with hardened eyes. This bottle had evolved into a life saver over time, especially when those nasty thoughts threatened to appear again. Removing the plug from it, he took a big gulp from the bottle, the smooth taste soothing his aching mind.

"Back to the weeds we go" he muttered before wiping off his mouth crudely. "To the weeds she treated so tenderly..." Papa added, putting the bottle on the counter a little too hard, nearly breaking it. He knew that Junior didn't knew how hurtful his comment was, Papa wasn't even blaming him...It was something else that made him grabbing his old problem solver...guilt. Guilt that he hadn't seen the signs of her demise, the signs that could have prevented her from bleeding out like a slaughtered pig from inside...she could have survived if only...if only...  
//It was your own damn fault, you let your wife die...pathetic bastard//

"No...it wasn't my fault...i couldn't have helped it either way...no one could."Papa muttered to himself, covering his face with his hands as to blend out the incoming thoughts. "I didn't meant to kill her...i just didn't knew what it was...I NEVER WANTED HER TO DIE THAT WAY!"

Alerted by the commotion inside the kitchen, Robert who just had returned from school, ran inside, checking out what was going on. As he saw Papa talking with himself and the bottle of whiskey in his hands, the boy sighed, walking calmly over to Papa, putting a hand on his shoulder.  
"It's okay, calm down..."he started, trying to get his Uncles attention. After a couple minutes, Papa turned around, eyes reddened with tears. Gritting his teeth in vain, Papa wiped off the tears with the backside of his hand, avoiding Robert's look.

"I-it's nothing. Just memories, stupid silly memories that came up...don't worry..."he tried to sound assuring but failed to do so as his voice cracked with every syllable. "You really should leave the whiskey away...it just makes things worse..." Robert stated, grabbing the bottle and putting it back into the cabinet. "Jolene didn't die because of you or anyone else...it was just her body that gave up after Junior's birth...it was no ones fault.." his eyes resting on Papa, Robert gestured the older man to sit down on a chair. It was old and rather creaky already but would do it's service for now.  
  
"There, that's better." the boy said, smiling at Papa in a friendly way. Turning around he went to another cabinet, taking out a bag of tea and a pot, filling it with water and made it boil on the stove. As it was finished he gave it to his Uncle who took it with a hesitating look. "Thanks..."Papa muttered, closing his eyes as the hot vapors hit his tearstained eyes. He felt incredibly old right now, even older than his father who thankfully was out for today, visiting an old friend of his, somewhere outside Derry. His hair was a mess and his cheeks had a rosey hue, his blood pressure must have sky rocketed again he thought to himself glumly. Maybe a couple more episodes of this and he could finally join Jolene, down where the weeds were...  
Massaging his temples with one hand, Papa looked up to Robert and nodded gratefully. He started to calm down slowly...

"Thank you for stopping me go apeshit in here...who could have guessed that a simple picture drawn by Junior could rile me up that much..."he stated, throwing the piece of paper on the table. Robert took it and looked at it, gulping for a moment before turning back to Papa. "Junior didn't meant any harm with this..i am sure he would have been devastated to see you in such a state..." the young man stated, tilting his head slightly. "Though all criticism aside, Junior really got better in drawing lately, haha" laughter...something Papa could use right now. It was a happy go lucky laugh, not heavily tainted by years of smoking like his own...

"How was school, sport? To bring up another topic on this table here..." Papa asked, trying to change the topic. Robert thankfully took the nod and sat down at his uncle's side. "As usual, mid terms are coming soon so it is back to the study table for good old Bob Gray!" supporting his head with his hand, Robert grinned, raising his brows in a quirky way. Papa chuckled at that, rolling his eyes at the youth's display. His slightly yellowish teeth flashed while doing so. The older man leaned back, sipping on his tea for a moment before setting down the cup on the table.  
"I think i am going for a little walk...would you be so kind and make us dinner? i think i am not in a good state of coming near any sort of food right now, haha" his laugh was half hearted, tired even. Standing up, he nodded towards Robert before leaving the kitchen to get dressed. Staying back on his chair, Robert stared at the older mans frame vanishing behind the next door. After he was gone he raised from his chair, making himself a cup of tea as well. After that he opened the refrigerator and took out a couple ingredients for their dinner later on. Good old pasta was never wrong and could even quench the most hungriest of man. While setting up everything, Papa left Neibolt House and strolled down the street, eyes fixed on the ground. He was deep in thoughts and had to get into another headspace quickly before the situation from before would flare up again.  
As always when his mood hit rock bottom, Papa used to roam the ground of his circus, watching the performers and artists preparing for tomorrow's show. It wasn't far from their house so he had to only walk a couple minutes before reaching the circus tent itself. It was literally working from home, well not fully, but at least very close. A couple workers waved towards him as he walked bye solemnly, Papa always would return the greetings, playing his part as Ringmaster perfectly.

A gentle breeze touseled his reddish hair and he looked up with a tired expression. Clouds started to part, revealing the sun shining under them. It would become a sunny day today after all, which was good. Brightness meant good feelings, wholesome feelings, no sorrow or sadness clouding your thoughts...Rummaging in his pockets, Papa pulled out one of his cigars, lightening it slowly. As the smoke hit his lungs he took a deep breath, inhaling the fumes.

"I hope you can forgive me, wherever you are..."he muttered before continuing his walk, eyes now bright and steady again. He was back and he would stay like that, at least until the next trigger would pull him back into the misery...but that was a topic for another day. For now, life had to continue and Papa would do his best to keep the show going on, after all his family counted on him. And Papa surely as hell wouldn't disappoint them!

**The end**


End file.
